You've Got Mail!
by theeflowerchild
Summary: Alli is never afraid to take chances, which involve running away to California and never looking back. Clare, frigid as ever, is left spending her junior year minus a best friend and still pining over the boy she has been in love with since she can remember. Who, seemingly, hates her guts. Hey, he might be glaring, but at least he's looking, right? AU.


**You've Got Mail!**  
theeflowerchild

chapter one

* * *

**to:** allibhanana  
**from:** saintclare  
**subject:** _You've been MIA for a while..._

You know what would be great? If you actually showed up to school. Or even, perhaps, replied to my text messages. Seriously, when do you _not_ answer your phone? You're borderline addicted to that thing. I'm actually starting to _worry_.

In all seriousness, where the hell are you?

* * *

**to:** allibhanana  
**from:** saintclare  
**subject:** _No, seriously, where are you?_

It isn't like you to miss school, Alli; are you sick or something? Should I be calling the hospitals? Are you grounded, have you been shipped to Guam?

Reply ASAP.

* * *

**to:** allibhanana  
**from:** saintclare  
**subject: **_…_

Alright, Alli, you're seriously starting to freak me out. I'm almost ready to call your _parents—_who scare the _crap_ out of me—so it would help if you actually _replied_ to the damn email.

* * *

**to:** allibhanana  
**from:** saintclare  
**subject: **_…_

Alli, please.

* * *

**to: **saintclare  
**from: **allibhanana  
**subject: **_Don't get your panties in a twist._

Dearest Clare,

It has come to my attention that you have sent me _countless_ emails in the past few days in hopes that I will reveal my oh-so-mysterious location to you. Firstly, I would like to tell you _not_ to worry. Don't go around phoning hospitals—or clinics, for that matter—or my _parents_, of all people (currently praying you haven't already). I am in one piece, nor have I contracted some ridiculous, obscure disease that is keeping me from coming to school. Well, if you'd consider running away some sort of lapse of my brain.

In which I'm sick and I hope I never, ever get better... Ever.

Secondly, I've run away. I leave my closet to you, my dear best friend, because God _knows_ your wardrobe needs a little help. Do you ever _not_ wear denim? (Don't answer that.)

Love,  
Alli.

P.S. How is that crappy school I so-smartly decided to escape from?

* * *

**to: **allibhanana  
**from:** saintclare  
**subject:** _MY PANTIES HAVE OFFICIALLY BEEN TWISTED._

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?

YOU _RAN AWAY?_ ARE YOU _KIDDING_ ME? WHERE THE HELL DID YOU _GO?_ DID YOU _FLEE CANADA _OR SOME SHIT? WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU!? DOES YOUR BROTHER KNOW!? WHAT ABOUT YOUR PARENTS!? THANK GOD YOU'RE IN ONE PIECE, NO GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE SO I CAN RIP YOU INTO SEVERAL.

DAMN STRAIGHT YOU'RE SICK IN THE HEAD. HOW COULD YOU JUST _RUN AWAY?_ YOU HAVE FRIENDS AND FAMILY THAT CARE ABOUT YOU, ALLI! WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING!? WHERE ARE YOU!?

NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO BE CRACKING JOKES ABOUT MY WARDROBE YOU... BITCH.

THERE, I SAID IT.

_YOU CRAZY BITCH_.

DIE,  
CLARE.

P.S. GET YOUR ASS BACK SO YOU CAN FIND OUT.

* * *

**to: **saintclare  
**from: **allibhanana  
**subject:** _Whoa, calm yourself with the caps._

Nothing is wrong with me, you frigid bitch. (There, _I_ said it. It's not _my_ fault your panties are in a constant state of knots.)

Yes, I ran away, and no, I am not kidding you. I may have fled Canada, but within good reason. Clare, you _know_ how things are with my parents right now; it's crazy and I'm suffocated. I can't deal. I had to get away for a little while, you have to understand. I didn't tell them, I just packed, up and left. It was the only thing I could think to do anymore; I hopped on a train and I should be in California no later than Friday. On the bright side, I've made a friend; his name is Dave and he goes to school in the city. He was visiting his parents up in Montreal and we caught the train at the same time, it was magical.

I swear.

ANY TIME IS A GOOD TIME TO CRACK A JOKE ABOUT THE WAY YOU DRESS, CLARE.

Love you more!  
Alli.

P.S. Sorry, no can do!

* * *

**to:** allibhanana  
**from:** saintclare  
**subject:** _I WILL NOT CALM MYSELF. YOU ARE A RUN AWAY._

I am not a frigid bitch, I just know how to control myself; is that such a bad thing?

Alli, I understand things are pretty bad with your parents now, ever since the whole Johnny situation, but you know they're trying; isn't that enough? I mean, they're even willing to go to therapy. Just because things are a little hard right now doesn't mean you can run off to California, of all places. Where are you going to stay? How are you going to make money or pay rent? AND IF ANYTHING, DIDN'T YOUR PARENTS TELL YOU _NOT_ TO TALK TO STRANGERS, MAGICAL OR NOT? YOU DON'T KNOW THIS DAVE PERSON, HE COULD BE CRAZY. OR A RAPIST. OR EVEN WORSE, HAVE A GIRLFRIEND. WHICH IS JUST AS BAD AS BEING CRAZY.

I'm fabulous.

No, seriously, die,  
Clare.

P.S. School is okay. We miss you. Jenna says, "hi," in all her poor-grammar-glory.

* * *

**to:** saintclare  
**from:** allibhanana  
**subject: **_I am not a "run away." You act like I'm so sappy teen movie._

It's too bad I had to leave, I'm promised myself I'd make sure you would let lose this year.

Ugh, can we please never ever bring up the Johnny situation again _ever?_ It was a quick lapse of brain-power that I'd like to forget as quickly as possible, thanks. Going to therapy doesn't mean anything, Clare; I know plenty of people who have gone to therapy that come out just as crazy as before. Just as my parents will probably come out thinking worse of my if I try to express myself or something. You don't know what it's like coming home every night to have your parents give you _the look_.

Where they're just so disappointed in every bad thing you've ever done that they can't even see a smidgen of the good.

Alright, I mean, give me some credit, he's beautiful. I have never seen brown eyes that deep and wet-looking; though, I assume they look better closed. I guess I'll have to wait and see, won't I? DIDN'T YOUR PARENTS EVER TELL YOU TO TAKE CHANGES, MAKE MISTAKES, AND MOST OF ALL, HAVE FUN WITH IT?

Hardly.

No, seriously, I love _you_ more!  
Alli.

P.S. That's good. Tell Jenna I said, "hi," back and tell her to grow out those horrendous bangs. What the hell was she thinking? Really, only I can pull off the straight-across, we've established this.

* * *

**to:** allibhanana  
**from:** saintclare  
**subject:** _Your entire life is a sappy teen movie._

I let lose. Get over yourself. Just the other day I didn't do my math homework until second period. Mind you, I have math third. If my mother had found out, she would've murdered me. I'm so _rebellious_.

You know what Alli? Fine. As your best friend, I support you one-hundred percent, even though I think you're bat-shit crazy and this is going to go completely sour. You could've just stayed with _me!_ We would've taken you in in a second, Alli; why didn't you tell me? Did you not trust me or something? Do you really think I would've have backed you up? That hurts. It really does.

I can't quite say I understand, but believe me, I do understand the whole "fighting family" thing. Though life has been a little weird ever since the divorce. My mom has men all over the house at ungodly hours, and it's a little disappointing. Do you know what it's like to have everything you've ever been told growing up be a lie? I did, and I didn't run away to _America_.

Still, I support you, no matter how absolutely pissed I am at you. You better stay safe, you pain in the ass. If a day goes by where I _don't_ hear from you, I'm going to the authorities quicker than you can say _no, Clare, don't!_ I'm not playing games here.

No, that was the Magic School Bus, which my mother never quite endorsed.

I'm going to pretend you never insulted my wardrobe when you wear hot pink nearly every day.

BYE,  
Clare.

P.S. You're such a bitch. She teared up a little. JUST KIDDING, Jenna feels nothing; she says she already knows. You would've been in almost all of my classes this year, you know.

* * *

**to:** saintclare  
**from:** allibhanana  
**subject: **_If that were true, Johnny would have stood outside my window with a radio and proposed, but alas, all he did was give me an STD._

For such a smart girl, you're an idiot. Put some vodka in a water-bottle and get down, girl.

Thanks, Clare, that's all I ask; just believe in me a little, okay? You're my best friend, the only one that understands me, the mac to my cheese, the pepperoni to my pizza, the wind beneath my wings and all that crap. I needed to get away from _Degrassi, _Clare. I needed to meet some new people and hear some new stories, get out of those cramped hallways and get away from Mr. Simpson. I'm tired of everybody—other than you and Jenna, of course, sweetums!—and everything, especially my parents, but thank you for the offer. If it were just my family I was trying to get away from, I would've taken it in a heartbeat.

Never did I imagine Mrs. Edwards to be skanking around, oh lord. It's okay, Clare, your mother is getting older and looking for somebody to happily settle down with. I know it's weird, but it'll get a little easier. Adults always want to "settle down" and whatever other crap they're spewing. Next thing you know, she'll be humping your leg for grandchildren.

… Well, this is awkward.

HOT PINK IS CALLED HOT FOR A REASON.

XOXO,  
Alli.

P.S. Damn straight I am. Is _he _in any of your classes?

* * *

**to:** allibhanana  
**from:** saintclare  
**subject:** _Correction, almost gave you an STD... At least you have a sense of humor about it. Kind of._

It's illegal for people our age to drink, Alli. The age is even higher in the states, have fun!

I believe in you and your corny comparisons to our friendship. Alright, but Degrassi will certainly miss you, I promise. Your name is fluttering around the hallways, synonymous with the statement, "Where the hell is she!?" I, of course, have been keeping my mouth shut, but people are starting to get a little concerned... I already miss you times ten.

FIRST OFF, MY MOTHER IS NOT "SKANKING AROUND." SHE IS SIMPLY SEEKING THE WARM TOUCH OF A MAN. Secondly, I highly doubt my mother will be harping me for grandchildren any time soon. Remember that one time I dated KC and she almost burned him at the stake? I have a feeling that my mother won't be telling me to get it on with the next boy I date in the hopes that I procreate. Neither will yours, for that matter. Do you think you can attempt to keep it in your pants over in the Cali? I understand we're talking CA boys here, but let's just keep to ourselves. Even is Dave is _like totally scrumptious _(I know those were exactly the words you were thinking, don't even try to pretend they were not).

HOT AS IN DO NOT TOUCH.

YEAH, YEAH,  
Clare.

P.S. He is in almost every single class of mine; he even sits next to me in two. His eyes are in a constant state of glaring directed toward yours truly. They are also in a constant state of liquid-emerald. Why does he have to be so perfect? Why does he have to hate my guts? Ugh.

* * *

**to: **saintclare  
**from:** allibhanana  
**subject:** _Praise Allah._

Don't worry; I found a way around it in good ol' Canada, I'll certainly find a way around it in California. Maybe they'll find my accent sexy, eh?

Awe, I'm so glad the people I don't like miss me so much! Tell them I was drafted into an infamous modeling agency where they take me underground for a year-or-so and turn me into absolute perfection. Then laugh and say "just kidding, she's already perfect." I'm leaving my cover story to you, Clare Edwards. I miss you times eleven! I'm sorry I decided to leave you. I should be back for senior year, though, count on it.

Well, you know what I _mean_. Mrs. Edwards is getting it in, yeah! Good for her. You should next; sex is great, I swear. To your second notion, that may be true, but remember, you're seventeen. In less than ten-years you will be twenty-seven. In just _ten years_ your mother will be wallowing, thinking, "I'm so old! Why hasn't Clare bore children yet!?" Or something like that. Also, KC was a _douche-bag,_ if you don't remember. Your mother was _smart_ not to trust the cheating bastard—bless Jenna, but she could've done _so_ much better—and you should've listened to me in dumping his ass sooner, too. BUT NO, NOBODY LISTENS TO THE GIRL WITH THE NEAR PERFECT GPA AND BEAUTY TO SPARE.

I promise to keep it in my pants. I, uh, swear. (Seriously, though, Dave is beautiful, but he can't really keep a conversation. He keeps drowning himself in his music—rap, his greatest flaw—and nodding off.)

YOU KNOW WHAT, YOU SHOULD DIE,  
Alli.

P.S. I figure something like that would happen; always so lucky, aren't we Clare-bear? I'm pretty sure he does not hate you. In fact, I think it is _quite_ the opposite. It's just really hard to express your feelings when you have a stick shoved so far up your ass that you can barely speak. He's not glaring, he's just severely constipated.

P.S.S. _Get it in_.

* * *

**I wrote a story like this once before and I knew I would've pursue it and didn't like it much, either, so I'm trying again. It's surely OC and even borderlining AU in the fact that Eli isn't totes in love with Clare and Alli has escaped to Guam. I'm digging it, though, and I love writing in emails. We'll see how long this goes for.**

**Peace.**


End file.
